


D7: Drug

by PuzzledHats



Series: AxG Week 2013 [7]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: ADWD spoilers, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-23 01:07:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/920197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuzzledHats/pseuds/PuzzledHats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which everybody lives, except Ramsay Bolton. Ramsay has to die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	D7: Drug

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, what if the last book of ASOIAF had everyone alive and happy and back at Winterfell? 
> 
> Hah, yeah I'm not holding my breath. Instead I'm writing fics like this one where everyone lives and everyone gets what they want!

Arya checked her pack for the third time, making sure everything was in its place, nothing could be missing. Satisfied, she hid it in one of the chests lining the wall. She had just closed the lid when Gendry entered.  
  
“Bran sent the raven to Jon,” he said. “Hopefully, we will know more next week.”  
  
She only nodded.  
  
“I know you’re upset with me,” Gendry began, worry written on his face. “But I think this is for the best.”  
  
She nodded again.  
  
“Ramsay is too dangerous to be dealt with alone,” he continued. “Jon will send men to take care of him.”  
  
She nodded again.  
  
“I know you think it’s your right,” Gendry said, letting his frustration show.  
  
She didn’t nod, just stared at him.  
  
“I lost you once,” he whispered. “I don’t think I could survive losing you again.”  
  
She went to him then, leaping up at the last minute so her legs wrapped around his waist. Gendry caught her effortlessly, like he always did.  
  
“You will never lose me,” she said, placing her forehead on his.  
  
“I will, if that bastard kills you because you’re out for revenge.”  
  
“I can handle him,” she said, with a slight smile.  
  
“I know you can,” he said, returning the smile. “But I’d feel better if you never met him.”  
  
“I promised, didn’t I?” She asked.  
  
“Yes, you promised you wouldn’t go after him,” he said. “But I can’t shake the feeling you will anyway.”  
  
Arya laughed, throwing her head back a little.  
  
“Oh, you of little faith,” she laughed, squeezing her legs a little tighter around him. “How will I ever convince you to trust me?”  
  
“I can think of a few ways,” he said, walking toward the bed, his hand moving up under her tunic. Arya worked on both their clothes, wanting nothing between them, so by the time Gendry sat down on the bed they were both naked.  
  
She had a slight pang of guilt as she slowly lowered herself onto him; it quickly passed as she began to ride him, savoring the moment. They came together; he whispering her name, she yelling his.  
  
After she had regained her breath and was sure her legs would hold her, she got up to pour them wine. She shifted her body, so Gendry couldn’t see her take the packet she had stored under the flagon, emptying the contents in to one of the goblets.  She brought it back to the bed, where he lay lounging against the headboard, eyeing her. She sat naked and cross-legged on the bed, back straight so she could look him in the eye.  
  
“Will you let me be the one to kill him?” She asked, watching as he took a long sip of the wine she had just handed him.  
  
“You promised-” he started, stopping when she shook her head.  
  
“No, when they bring Ramsay back, I get to be the one to deliver the final blow,” she explained.  
  
His mouth twisted slightly at that, clearly unhappy with the request. He took another sip of wine, clearly trying to buy time.  
  
“If you wish,” he said, finally.  
  
“He’s my husband, after all,” she smiled. “I should be the one to get to kill him.”  
  
“He is not your husband,” Gendry said fiercely. She only laughed, before draining her goblet, placing it on the bedside table. She watched as Gendry did the same, before he was reaching out, pulling her to him. “He is not your husband in anyway that matters.”  
  
“No,” Arya said back just as fiercely. “He is not.”  
  
He bit her lower lip, drawing her in, the kiss anything but gentle. But just as it was about to get interesting, Gendry pulled back from her, blinking his eyes rapidly.  
  
“Arya-” he started, lifting up one of his hands, trying to focus on it, his eyes continued to blink rapidly. He looked up at her, fear on his face. “Arya, what did you-”  
  
But he never finished, falling back against the bed, lightly snoring. She leaned over, placing her ear against his chest, allowing herself a full minute to listen to the beating of his steady and loyal heart.  
  
She got up, dressing quickly, retrieving the pack she had hidden earlier. She moved over to the table beside the bed, leaving the note she had written propped up on it. The note detailing her plan, explaining that she would be back in four days; ending it by telling him she would only ever love him. Then, when she was sure she had everything, she returned to the bed; grabbing a blanket carefully tucking it in around his muscled body. She took a moment to brush her hand through his hair, scratch his beard in a way that if he was awake would have had him purring. She leaned over, kissing his forehead, each cheek and finally his mouth.  
  
“I love you,” she whispered.  
  
Gendry woke ten hours later to a pounding headache and an apologizing Maester Sam.  
  
“She said she was having trouble sleeping,” he said. “I would never have given it to her if I had known what she intended.”  
  
“Never mind,” Gendry said, getting to his feet. “Will you have them saddle me a horse?”  
  
Sam shuffled slightly, wringing his hands a little.  
  
“I think you’ll find that’s not possible,” he finally said, sheepishly.  
  
“Why?” Gendry spat, anger building up.  
  
“Because she has given me instructions not to let you out of my sight until she gets back,” came Sandor Clegane’s gruff voice from the doorway.  
  
“Since when do you take orders from her?” Gendry asked, not bothering to hide his contempt.  
  
“Since I figured out she could kill me with a flick of her little finger,” he said, smiling.  
  
“If this was Sansa-” Gendry started, but the Hound interrupted him.  
  
“But it’s not,” he said. “Arya knows what she is doing; she can take care of herself.”  
  
The fight went out of him, his shoulders slumping foreword, knowing he could never best the Hound in a fight.  
  
“Cheer up,” Sandor said. “If she isn’t back in four days, I’ll be the first one out the gate looking for her with you.”  
  
Gendry only gave him the rudest hand gesture he could think of, causing the Hound to howl with laughter.  
  
Four days later, Arya walked back in to Winterfell, depositing Ramsay Bolton’s head in front of the small crowd who had gathered when the guards had yelled of her return.  
  
“That’s disgusting,” Sansa said.  
  
“That is awesome,” Rickon said. “Will you teach me how you did it, Arya?”  
  
Arya didn’t respond, only continued to stare down the stubborn bull headed man before her, arms crossed over his chest. She wasn’t sure how long they stood there, before she couldn’t take it anymore.  
  
“I’m a widow now. I no longer have a husband.” she said.  
  
He continued to stare at her, his mouth twisting in to a scowl. She thought maybe she had gone too far, finally crossed the line, when he spoke, his voice low, almost feral.  
  
“Not for long.”  
  
In the end, Bran was the one who insisted on them waiting a week, explaining that he had already summoned Jon and did Arya really want Rickon to be the one to giver her away, since he couldn’t very well do it on the back of Hodor.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe this is the end of Arya X Gendry week! I had so much fun. Not sure if I could ever participate in it again (7 fics is a lot, yo!), but I have loved getting to see all fic this week. So I hope it becomes an annual thing!


End file.
